


On the Return of Wayward Jedi

by Tokyo_the_Glaive



Series: Tumblr Shorts [7]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: BAMF Q, Crossover, Fluff and Angst, Force Visions, Grey Jedi!Q, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Inappropriate Use of the Force, James Bond Takes Care of Q, M/M, Meditation, Past-James Bond/Vesper Lynd, Q is not a Damsel in Distress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 08:51:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6899335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tokyo_the_Glaive/pseuds/Tokyo_the_Glaive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Bond is a pilot and spy for the Resistance.  M sends Bond to Litha to retrieve Q, an eccentric Jedi who disappeared years ago, to help with the fight against the First Order.  Even before he disappeared, Q was on the brink between the Light and the Dark; M can't speak to what Bond will find when he arrives.  Naturally, Bond has no such concerns.</p><p>Finding Q is easy; convincing him to leave is a little more work than Bond expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Return of Wayward Jedi

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skylights](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skylights/gifts).



> When is a tumblr short not a tumblr short? When it grows past 5k and still isn't finished, that's when. Please enjoy, and let me know what you think!

The Litha system sat on the edge of the Western Reaches, not far from Endor.It consisted of one relatively small planet, termed Litha, orbiting a single sun and surrounded by four moons.Thirty years prior, it was one of the many systems the Rebellion and the Galactic Empire fought over, and the wreckage of many ships could be found on Litha’s surface.

Travel to Litha, however, was treacherous and infrequent.The atmosphere was breathable and the terrain was lush and green, but predators were fierce and little information was available concerning the virulence of the local flora.For that reason, both the Rebellion, later the New Republic, and the Galactic Empire, later the First Order, stayed away.

There were exceptions, of course.James Bond was one of them.

Bond pulled out of hyperspace just on the edge of Litha’s atmosphere and fell into orbit.Litha loomed below him, an enormous blue-green ball that at first glance looked remarkably like rural Corellia.Clouds drifted over the surface, and Bond thought he could see an ocean.

He looked away from the planet below to open his line of communication using the control panel before him.He sent a message to M— _arrived at Litha, preparing to descend_ —before turning communications back off.He had been given his orders already, so his check-ins were purely for the benefit of his superiors, a begrudging necessity.

Bond signaled his droid—a little thing by the name of TN3R—to prepare for the descent to the surface.It wouldn’t be any different from landing on any other heavily forested planet, so he wasn’t too concerned.When he disembarked—that would be the fun part.

TN3R beeped, a message appearing on the control panel.Bond read it wordlessly and nodded to himself as the ship began its approach, slow and steady.The pressure in the cabin changed subtly, and Bond’s ears popped around the time they reached the equivalent of a stratosphere.

With the guidance of TN3R, Bond brought the ship to rest in a clearing surrounded by trees near the planet’s equator.Against the advice of the droid, Bond opened the cockpit and took in a deep breath, eager to be free of the stale, recycled air of his ship.

Within moments, Bond began to cough violently.The air was damp and heavy, and something smelled sickly-sweet and rotten.It burned his lungs and clung to the back of his throat like some toxic perfume.

 _Ipidoctorus_ , Bond thought.The local variant of the corpse flower.How lovely.

Ignoring the protests of TN3R, Bond climbed out of the cockpit to stand on the nose of his ship.The sky looked clear, a very bright blue in contrast to the green of the leaves that obscured most of Bond’s view.Insects buzzed in his ear, and Bond swatted them away.He’d been inoculated against a variety of the known diseases and conditions present on Litha, so he was more annoyed than concerned by the bugs.

With a device programmed by Eve back on D’Qar, Bond took a scan of the space around him.The instrument’s readings bounced back and forward almost haphazardly, no doubt due to interference from the trees, but from what Bond could see, he was the only living creature around.

Or, the only living creature other than the insects that now _swarmed_ around Bond’s head.He scowled and swatted, but they refused to leave him alone.

“TN3R,” Bond called, loathe to open his mouth lest one of those insects fly in.“Which direction?”

The droid beeped and whirred quietly.Bond, who had taught himself binary for a number of reasons, interpreted the noise as “that way”, which was to say straight ahead.

Bond looked forward.The ground he’d landed the ship on looked solid, all dirt and grass and some vibrantly pink flowers that looked faintly like the heads of snakes.After checking his boots one last time, Bond hopped off of the edge of the ship and onto the ground.He braced himself, touching nothing with his bare skin.The planet seemed still, peaceful—nothing made to attack or ambush him. _Good_.

With an order for TN3R to say with the ship, Bond began picking his way forward.The grass was only as tall as mid-calf, and the flowers were only a little taller.They brushed against his trousers as he marched forward, carving a path through to the trees.

The trees, when Bond reached them, grew tall and widely spaced, their roots dipping above and below the ground, something Bond found out the hard way when he nearly tripped over one.They swayed in a breeze Bond that ran too high for him to feel.When he looked above, he saw that the crowns of the trees were like little islands, not touching one another.Between them, he could see rivers of sky, blue and shimmering.

Bond trekked for hours, leaving his ship far behind as he searched, traveling deep into a forest that didn’t seem to end.The trees made it difficult to tell, but Bond thought he might be ascending a very long, steady hill.The air was neither thinner or thicker, but his legs strained with each step, and sweat rolled off of him by the bucketful.He hadn’t felt so physically wasted in years, and never without a shoot-out.

Litha had roughly 20 hour days, but without climbing one of the trees to see where the sun sat in the sky, Bond had no way of knowing the approximate time.He felt exhausted, though he knew that he shouldn’t, and so thirsty.He drank some of the water that he’d brought with him and immediately felt dizzy.He resisted the urge to sit down, not knowing what the soil and trees might do to him if he touched them, even as his vision began to swim and spin before his eyes.

 _Focus_ , Bond told himself.He could get beyond this; he was just dehydrated.When he turned, he could only see trees—trees in all directions, identical trees, vanishing in all directions.He searched but could not find his own trail, the footprints that he’d left on the way here.

Something cracked—a branch, or a root, or maybe Bond himself as he fell backwards to the ground.Bond heard the rustling of leaves in his ears as if it were the ocean or the roar of his own ship, and he shut his eyes.

* * *

Years of training, first with the New Republic fleet and then with the Resistance, had Bond coming to all at once and hyperaware of his surroundings.

Bond was tied against something—a stone pillar, Bond guessed after a glance at his surroundings.He sat in a partially collapsed building that looked like the ruins of a great hall or the remnants of a palace, all stone columns and intricately worked paintings bleached by the sun and crawling with moss and other plants.Above, Bond could see the night sky studded with stars and systems he could only guess at given his knowledge of star maps.Back at eye level, Bond saw a few of those pink snake-like flowers growing where the stone of the floor had broken through to reveal soil.

His clothes had been changed while he was unconscious.He wore something long and soft that looked suspiciously like a robe.His shoes were missing, and Bond couldn’t feel the familiar weight of his blaster at his hip.

To his left and somewhat behind him, out of his field of vision, Bond smelled burning flesh and smoke.He felt heat—a fire _,_ but a controlled one.Bond’s skin prickled.Someone had brought him here.Someone had found him, or, far more likely, had followed him.

“You’re awake,” a voice said.The accent was soft, a far cry from the cadence of the Core Worlds.No, it was a voice not unlike his own, speaking to an upper-class Outer Rim upbringing. _The First Order_ , Bond thought.They had trailed him here.The person he was supposed to find had likely already been captured—

“You’re wrong,” the voice said.Bond froze.“I’m not with the First Order.”Bond swallowed, keeping his breaths even.It was quiet for several long moments.“Are you with the Resistance?”

Bond didn’t— _couldn’t_ —answer, not without knowing who he was talking to or how they had guessed at his suspicions without even looking at him.His ship wasn’t marked in any way and he wore no uniform, so there would be no way to tell—

“Oh,” the voice said.“You are.”

Almost immediately, the ties that held Bond’s wrists fell away.Bond brought his hands to his front and whipped around the pillar only to realize several things in quick succession.

First, there was no rope where there should have been rope.In fact, a quick glance at his wrists revealed no indentations, no marks to indicate physical bindings.Second, the speaker sat in front of a roaring fire with some massive creature hung over it, spinning slowly as flames licked its flesh.Third, _Bond knew that face_.Bond had studied it hundreds of times before he had set out for Litha, examining the small hologram from every angle.

“You’re Q,” Bond said, somewhat stupidly.“The Jedi.”

“Quite,” Q said.There was a sour note to that word.“And you are… James Bond?A pilot, I see.And…a spy.My, my.”

Bond stared at Q, his mind working rapidly as he tried to process.

“Get out of my head,” Bond said, the words awkward in his mouth.

Q smiled slightly, standing.His robes were dark, and together with his dark hair, he was little more than a face in the night.

“Hardly the best way to thank someone who saved your life,” Q huffed.

“Did you?” Bond asked.He glanced about surreptitiously, trying to locate his belongings.

“I burned them,” Q said.Bond looked at him.“They were too damaged.”

“Damaged?”

“Poisoned,” Q amended.He nodded at the pink flowers waving softly across the ruins.“You’re lucky I found you.Those things wreak havoc on the human nervous and endocrine systems.I spent a while after I first arrived here studying them.Nasty things.”

“I was sent to find you,” Bond said.

Q smiled serenely.“I know,” he said, “and you’re going to leave empty-handed.”

Bond took in a deep breath.M had ordered him—not suggested, or implied, _ordered_ him—to use her single-letter moniker when dealing with Q to gain his trust, but the idea sat poorly with him.He said, “I was sent by M,” and it felt as if all of the air had left his lungs.The admission was a hard one, drilled as he was in the arts of secrecy and deception.One never identified one’s employer; it simply wasn’t done.

“I know.”

Bond clenched his fist and said, “You don’t care.”

Q looked to one side.The light from the fire played across his face, accentuating his cheekbones and—were those _glasses_?

“It’s not that,” Q said, “but I don’t expect you to understand.”

Bond glared at Q.“I was given a mission,” he said.To say it openly like that felt intolerably wrong.

“And you will fail it,” Q said, sitting back down, “but after dinner.I’m not completely without manners, so you get to eat, too, but we need to eat now.I’m starving.”Bond didn’t move.“Come on, unless you want to go hungry.”

Bond approached slowly and came to sit on the opposite side of the fire.He saw that the beast that Q had been cooking had been rotating by no discernible mechanism, though it stopped with a wave of Q’s hand and floated away from the fire as he extracted a knife from his robes. _The Force_ , Bond thought.M had tried to warn him, but Bond had never seen it in action.He watched as Q cut flesh off of the beast in neat segments with the knife.

“I didn’t think Jedi used those,” Bond said.

Q stiffened visibly, then kept cutting.

“It’s useful,” Q said.“I’m not sure where you get your ideas about Jedi, but you’re ill-informed.That aside, I’m not a Jedi.”

“That’s not what they say.”

A large, prime piece of meat floated toward Bond.Bond took it and ate it quickly, the flesh steaming under his fingers.His tongue burned, and he choked.

Q laughed.“They’re wrong,” he said, “and you might want one of these.”

A plate hung near Bond’s head.Bond snatched it out of the air, aware that Q was toying with him.Q gave him small utensils that looked like they had been carved by hand, then set about cutting off a piece for himself.

“You should thank me,” Q said.“I made them for you as soon as I found you.”Bond glanced down at the makeshift knife and fork, then back up at Q.“I’m not here for the company, you know.I only had the one set for myself.”

“Thank you,” Bond said, the words feeling foreign and not entirely genuine in his mouth.

Q merely smiled and tucked into his own food.

They sat for a long while in silence, eating at intervals and watching the fire.

“M told me—”

“I know what she told you,” Q said quickly.

“Get out of my head.”

The light from the fire bounced off of Q’s glasses.“Then leave me alone,” he said.“I didn’t ask for you to come here.”

“We—the Resistance needs help.”

“Don’t we all,” Q grumbled.

Bond stared at him.“She told me why you’re here,” Bond said.Q looked determinedly at his lap.“About your predicament.”

Q stood quickly, his eyes flashing with something Bond didn’t recognize.A chill ran up his spine as Q spoke, brandishing his knife.

“Shut up,” Q said.He looked about to cry, but with that knife in his hand and the Force at his disposal, Bond would have been hard-pressed to feel anything other than fear.“You don’t know anything about it.”

Bond put up his hands in a show of surrender.Slowly, Q sat back down, tucking the knife away.When he determined it was safe, Bond made to speak again.

Q raised a hand, and Bond felt a pressure over his mouth and inside his neck.

“Don’t say anything else about it,” Q warned.“Don’t.”

Bond shook his head as best as he could.It felt like something had been shoved down his throat.Q glowered at him until Bond started to gag, at which point his throat was released and he coughed, his throat spasming around nothing.

“I froze your vocal chords and jaw,” Q explained.

“I noticed,” Bond said, voice hoarse.He was unsure of how to proceed.M had said it would be hard, but she hadn’t mentioned _this_.

Q stared at him for a long moment.“Why did you join the Resistance?” he asked finally.

“Excuse me?”

Q rolled his shoulders and sat back.The light that bounced off of his glasses made his eyes difficult to read, but Bond could read body language just fine.Up close like this, Q seemed relaxed, and though that could easily change at a moment’s notice, Bond guessed Q had asked his question more out of a sense of idle curiosity than anything else.

“I believe in the New Republic,” Bond said.

“No, you don’t,” Q replied, sing-song.Another shiver ran up Bond’s spine.“I do have to say, though, you are a remarkable liar.Anyone without the Force might have believed that.”

“But you don’t,” Bond said, leaning forward, both toward the fire for warmth and toward Q to better see him.Q mirrored his body language, and the angle was such that Bond could finally see Q’s eyes.They were dark.Bond imagined they might be expressive.

“No,” Q said softly.Quickly, sharply, and a little louder, he added, “And before you accuse me of being in your head, I wasn’t—I’m not.But I can tell anyway, and—”He looked like he’d swallowed something sour.“I just knew.It’s hard to explain.”

For one brief moment, Bond envied that talent, but then he thought of what he knew about Q.There was little to envy.

Q continued to stare at him, expectant, and Bond understood that he was meant to explain himself.Bond disliked telling more about himself than he absolutely had to, but M had insisted that he bring Q back gently, and with the utmost honesty.Bond had thought the missive odd; only now did he understand that lying to Q would prove an exercise in futility.

“I wanted to do something interesting,” Bond admitted.He forced himself to look Q in the eye.“M took a liking to me, and I to her.”

“Personal loyalty,” Q murmured.“I see.”

Bond scowled at him, put off by the suggestion.“It’s not personal.”

“Of course not,” Q said, “but you agreed to come here, to meet a rogue _Jedi_ , in order to try to recruit me for the cause.You’re loyal to something.Too loyal, maybe.”

“The First Order will find you,” Bond said, back on sure footing.“You cannot stay here.”

“And?”

The question hung in the air.Bond rolled his tongue in his mouth, biting back several easy responses in favor of considering the matter.

“They’ve killed many like you,” Bond said finally, “those who show sensitivity to the Force.I can’t imagine what they would do to a trained Jedi.”

The light from the fire flashed off of Q’s glasses, and his posture abruptly changed as he took an aggressive stance.Bond sat back and worked furiously to determine what had caused Q’s mood to switch so suddenly.The idea came to him—he’d called Q a Jedi.

“I apologize,” Bond said, with as much sincerity as he could muster.“What shall I call you, then?”

“My name,” Q snapped, “but if you seek to define what I am, you’ll not like what you find.”

“What will I find?”

“Didn’t M tell you?” Q sneered.He seemed to retreat a bit.Bond leaned back in turn, eager both to put space between himself and the tremendously dangerous individual sitting across from him and to put Q somewhat at ease.

“Let’s say she didn’t,” Bond said.“You and I have never met.I’ve read about you, and you’ve looked through my mind.Tell me what I should know.”

Q stopped moving altogether.

“Why should I tell you?” Q asked.The night seemed deeper than before, and while the fire nearly blinded him, Bond could hardly see Q.“Do you want a reason to leave empty-handed?”

“I want to know my host, who helped me when I was poisoned, who gave me dinner,” Bond said.“I want to know who I’m sitting across from.No M, no Resistance.”

Q was silent for several long moments.Bond half-believed he had disappeared until he spoke.

“I used to believe in the Jedi Code,” Q said.He spoke quietly, as if confessing his sins.Bond leaned forward again.“I believed what I was taught.But everywhere I looked,” Q said, “I saw war.I tried—I tried…”Q stopped, swallowing.“I studied the Dagoyan Masters,” he said instead.“Defensive arts, passive use of the Force, but it wasn’t enough.I tried to fight, to see if that was my calling in the galaxy, but, now…”Q leaned forward.“See for yourself.”

Bond stopped short.The orders M had given him rang out in his head.

 _Shoot on sight_ , she had said, _and to kill.Do not hesitate._

_And if that doesn’t work?_

_Run._

“You’re projecting,” Q said.His voice was almost dreamy, and he didn’t move except to blink.“I took your blaster, so I would skip to the running.”

Bond stared at his eyes.Where there had been something dark—brown, he had imagined—there was now something gold, something shining, something that screamed for Bond to flee.Q’s eyes were like supernovae in the femtoseconds before they explode, or like stars where they bleed out into the darkness of the universe, that unholy mixture of gold and void.

Against every survival instinct he possessed, Bond stayed.

“I see,” Bond said, the words sticking in his throat.

Q’s smile curved into something thin and gruesome.“She didn’t tell you,” he said.His voice cracked, and Bond watched his throat bob.

“She told me you were on the edge,” Bond said.“Unsure.”

“Now you know,” Q said.He sat up straight, tilting his head back so that his eyes were half-lidded as he watched Bond.“Are you still sure you want to bring me back to your precious base?”

 _No_.The thought rang through Bond’s head faster than he could restrain it.It was too dangerous, it was _wrong_ , it was—

“There,” Q said.“Now you see the light.”

Bond didn’t bother restraining his laugh.This felt surreal to him, more like a dream than anything else.He was likely about to die, unarmed and on some forsaken planet on the outer reaches of charted space, and a Sith had just cracked a pun.

“Was that meant to be a joke?” Bond asked.

Q shrugged his shoulders and stood as he said, “I thought it was funny.”

Bond stood as well, feeling awkward in robes that were clearly Q’s own.They were tight across the shoulders, though they were blessedly long enough to reach his ankles.

Q stared at him.Bond, who possessed not even a single iota of shame with regards to his body, much less for anything else, didn’t so much as flinch.

“You should sleep,” Q murmured.“It’s late.”

“Is it?” Bond asked.“You seem quite awake.”

Q ran a hand through his hair.Bond watched those pale fingers disappear and reappear as they threaded through those wavy locks.They were long and thin, and Bond could picture them squeezing the life out of an unsuspecting and sleeping victim.

“I won’t hurt you, if that’s what you’re concerned about,” Q said.“After all, if you die here, more will come looking for you.”

Another thought crossed Bond’s mind: _no, they won’t_.He was a spy, sent on a mission no one but him—and M, of course, and possibly General Organa—knew about.No one would be looking for him.No one would know where to start.

“You’re lucky,” Q rasped, “that I like you.If I didn’t, knowing that, you might not be going home.”

Bond stiffened. _Mind-reading_ , he thought.Q had looked through his thoughts.

“You can sleep in your ship, if you’d like,” Q said.“I’ll take you to it.”

Bond’s thoughts raced even as he tried to quiet them in order to shield himself from Q.He knew it was possible, if difficult, but he had no concept of the processes required.

He really ought to have demanded more details for this operation.

“It’s right over there,” Q said.“I wouldn’t make you walk back to where you originally landed.You would die, and I would feel terrible.”

Bond squinted through the dark.Though he was loathe to look away from Q, he saw the faint glint of the transparisteel of the cockpit just beyond the worn stairs that once led “outside” of the ruins.

“How?” Bond asked.

“The Force,” Q said.“Now go, leave me, and sleep.”

Bond felt his legs working against his own volition.Q sat back down at the remains of the fire, but Bond knew better: Q was herding him along through the Force, across the stones, around those infernal flowers, down the stairs to the waiting ship.

TN3R, still in his spot atop the ship, chirped at him.Apparently, a long time after Bond set out, the ship had lifted on its own and moved to this new place.Nothing TN3R had tried had been able to override whatever had happened.

“The Jedi,” Bond told the droid.The word stuck in his mouth, but trying to explain the differences between a Jedi and a Sith to a droid were not high priorities at the moment.“It was him.”

TN3R hummed low—the droid was impressed.

“So am I,” Bond said.“So am I.”

He crawled past the pilot’s seat in the cockpit, securing the transparisteel behind him, and moved back into the ship.It was an old two-person luxury cruiser, expensive and fast.Bond had purchased it on a whim, much to the chagrin of just about everyone around him, but it had held up well.There were beds in the back—nice big ones, meant for the best kinds of pleasure—and Bond took to his own without so much as undressing.

He briefly considered sending a missive to M, then decided against it.He’d have time tomorrow.

* * *

When Bond woke in the morning, it was to the feeling of fabric tangled around his body.  He opened his eyes, saw his ship, his bed, his belongings—and the robe.

Bond sighed and lay back against the pillows again.He cursed and rubbed at his eyes.He wanted a stiff drink but knew it to be a bad idea—there was a Sith somewhere on this planet that wanted Bond gone yesterday.

Pulling himself out of bed, Bond walked the short distance to the cockpit.He’d send a message to M, alerting her of his progress, and then maybe go hunting for breakfast before he figured out where to go from here.

Bond sat down and turned to the control panel, setting several dials and switches to account for both distance and interference from trees.None of the systems responded.Bond tried it again, then whacked the controls.Nothing.

 _Shit_.

Frowning, Bond popped open the cockpit.The air was just as heavy and damp as it had been the day before, but unlike when he’d first landed, that heavy rotting smell was absent.Wherever Q had brought him— _and his ship_ ; Bond would have killed for the ability to lift such an object with nothing more than his mind and some mystical force Bond had relegated to fairy-tales for most of his adult life—it was far from anything resembling a corpse flower.

Bond stood in the cockpit and took in his surroundings.

He’d been right the night before: Q had brought him to something like a temple.He’d dropped Bond’s ship about a hundred meters away, and from there Bond had a good vantage point.The structure itself was tremendous.At the front, where he had been with Q the night before, stone steps led up to an open entrance where columns supported what once must have been a domed roof.That entrance led to three bigger structures arranged in a row behind the entrance, each of them a temple.Figures sat atop each burgeoning stone edifice, larger-than-life and looming like forgotten gods.Their faces were weathered and overgrown, not that Bond would have recognized them anyway.

Bond dressed in his own clothes, pulling from the spare items he always kept aboard.After strapping a blaster to his thigh, he hopped out of the ship and down to the ground below.The path that he’d walked—or, more aptly, that Q had forced him to walk—the night before was apparent to him: a paved walkway, wide enough for four people, lead more or less to his ship.Bond saw that it extended under the ship and well into the woods behind it, trailing off into the relative dark of the shade.

Bond followed it now, up to the stone steps and back to where he’d met Q.He avoided the pink flowers yet again, wondering in passing why Q let them grow so close to where he resided, and came to the charred remains of last night’s fire.

Other than the burnt ashes, there was nothing left.The carcass of the animal they had eaten was gone, as was Q.

Bond took a deep breath and looked about.There was no indication of where Q had gone, or when.With his abilities, he could have been halfway across the surface of Litha.

Bond ran a hand over his face and sighed.What an absolute disaster.

“Looking for something?”

He spun to see Q coming up the stairs, something large and dead slung across his shoulders.Q walked to the spot where the fire had been previously and dumped the dead beast next to it.He hadn’t so much as broken a sweat, but then again, he hadn’t really been carrying the thing, had he?

“Good morning,” Q said.“Good to see you didn’t die in the night.”

“Were you expecting me to?” Bond asked.Q frowned, and Bond was struck by the wrongness of it—not of the frown, but of Q’s face.“Your eyes are brown.”

Q crouched low, drawing that knife out of his robes again.

“You haven’t even wished me good morning,” he said.“It’s too early for you to be so surly.”After a moment, he added, “If you aren’t going to wear my robes, I’d like them back.”

Bond worked his jaw, then said, “Would you like some help?”

Q glared at Bond over his glasses, then set to work skinning the creature he’d snared, something brown and bristly that looked like it would have been vicious alive.

“I’m sorry,” Bond said, wiping his forehead with his hand.The sun had hardly risen and already he had begun to sweat profusely.“Good morning, Q.I meant to thank you for last night.”

Q paused and looked up at him, then said, “You actually mean that.”

“You’re surprised?”

“I did imply that I would harm you, and I told you to run.Unless I’ve forgotten all of my manners, that was hardly polite.”

Bond bit back a snarky retort and instead said, “Manners aside, yes, I do mean it.Thank you.”Q twiddled with the knife as he rose to his feet, thinking.

“This isn’t really a job for two people,” Q said slowly, “but if you want to help, there are plants that grow just past your ship, in the woods.About this tall,” Q said, gesturing to mid hip, “with red berries.Take my gloves and go get some.”

Bond accepted the gloves, then asked, “The entire plant, or just the berries?”

Q thought for a moment, then said, “The whole plant, if you would, with the berries.Take the stem off low to the ground.”

Bond took the gloves when Q offered them and slipped them on before he set out for the path once more.The gloves were still warm from Q’s hands, but they were dry and smelled clean, like fresh leather and oil.

The plants proved easy to locate.The berries were a shocking red amidst the greenery and sat nested amongst enormous flat leaves that were likewise difficult to overlook.Bond did as he was told, snapping the stems of several plants as he came across them.He didn’t know how many to take, so he stopped when they became difficult to hold at arm’s length.Carefully, he returned to the ruins, where Q had started another fire.

“Ah,” Q said.“Thank you.”He gestured for Bond to set them down, then set him to work separating the leaves, the berries, and the stems.Bond set to work, though he kept an eye fixed on Q all throughout.

While Bond was gone, Q had finished skinning the creature.He laid the skin fur-side down, and as he cut fillets of flesh to cook, he set them side-by-side on top of it.Q used his knife to score the meat, then cut the stems that Bond gradually separated from the rest of the plant into small segments and shoved them inside.Each fillet was wrapped in a leaf, and each package was placed over the fire.

Q took all of the berries at once.He used the handle of the knife to crush them in two of his makeshift cups, the sight of which reminded Bond of his thirst, both for water and for caf.

“In a moment,” Q murmured.He retrieved a large vat from behind a pillar, and he poured from it into each cup.

“Cheers,” Q said when each was filled.He sloshed the contents around for a moment, and Bond watched as the water turned red.Satisfied, Q took a drink.

Bond followed suit, though somewhat slower.He wasn’t sure what he was about to drink, but Q had no motivation to kill him.Gingerly, Bond took a sip.

It was cold, and somewhat tart, but it tasted good.He took another sip, and another, and Q smiled at him from where he sat closer to the fire.

“It’s not caf,” Q said, “but it’s close enough.”

“Thank you,” Bond said, inclining his head.Q’s smile widened, and he turned back to the fire.

They didn’t say anything for a while after that.Bond sat back and looked at the sky and the trees and the temple.He wanted to talk, but he knew better.He’d waited for much longer in far less interesting locations than this on his operations.In comparison, this was almost like a vacation.

Bond wasn’t hungry until he was.Thankfully, the food that Q had prepared finished cooking not a few minutes later.Q divided the little leaf-covered packages between the two of them.Bond watched as he carefully opened part of the leaf, then used it to hold the meat as he ate.Bond mimicked him, using the leaf like a wrapping.The meat was juicy and tender, and quite spicy.Bond determined that the little bits of stem that he had collected earlier had flavored it.

“This is delicious,” Bond said, watching Q.Q didn’t stop eating, but Bond saw a flush rise on his cheeks.“How did you learn?”

“Here?” Q asked, wiping his mouth with his thumb.“The archives.The old masters left copies of recipes and tricks for survival for those who made pilgrimage here.They’ve proven very useful.”

Bond looked up at the ruins of the temple.“How old is this place?” he asked.

Q shrugged.“It dates back to the old Sith Empire,” he said, “or, probably earlier.It was before the Jedi came together as a unified body.”

“So this is a Sith temple,” Bond said, more to himself.

Q shook his head violently.“No,” he said.“No, it isn’t.”Bond waited for the explanation.“It belonged to one of the old sects,” Q said.“They worshiped the Force, but they also had three gods.There are statues of them up there still.”Bond remembered seeing them earlier that very morning.

“Why come here?” Bond asked.“You’re a Sith.”

One of Q’s hands curled into a fist, and though Bond felt no resulting pull or restraint on himself, he tensed nonetheless.

“I am no Sith,” Q said slowly.He stared at Bond, eyes angry.

 _His eyes_ , Bond thought.They were brown.

“No, I suppose you aren’t,” Bond said slowly.“But I know that you adhere to at least some of the Sith doctrine.Even so, you haven’t allied with the First Order, and you don’t approve of war.You live here, in the shadow of a proto-Jedi temple, all alone.Your eyes weren’t like that last night.”

Gold flashed as Q got angrier.“Maybe I’ve tricked you,” Q said.“Maybe your mind betrays you.”

“I think that it’s you,” Bond said.“You haven’t made up your mind yet, what you are.”

Q blinked at him.The gold seemed to recede, but it was still there, glowing as steadily as the small fire over which Q had cooked them both breakfast.

“Neither a Sith nor a Jedi,” Bond said, “but balanced.That’s what you’re trying to accomplish out here.”Bond frowned.“It’s not going so well.You’re falling, despite your best efforts.”

Q looked away and said, “That’s none of your concern.”

“Isn’t it?” Bond asked.When Q said nothing, Bond pressed, “If the First Order finds you—”

“You’re not the only one who knows how to kill,” Q said.

“I don’t doubt that,” Bond said, “but if they find you, they’ll try to turn you.”

“I’m not a Sith,” Q insisted.“I’m not going to become one.”

“I’m not saying you are,” Bond cut in, “but they may try to sway you.When that fails…”Bond trailed off.Q wasn’t worried about killing.“How much of a defense are you willing to mount?You came out here to be alone, to avoid war.They’ll wage war on you, maybe capture you.You’ll be surrounded by it.It could drive you mad.”

“I’d die first,” Q said.

“That is what I’m afraid of,” Bond said.

Q tilted his head slightly.“Why do you care so much?”

Bond paused at that, though he didn’t drop Q’s gaze.

“You don’t already know?” Bond asked.His words were the drop of a pin in a silent room.“You’ve been looking, haven’t you?Up here.”Bond tapped his own head.

“No,” Q said, too quickly.In the light of day, Bond could see the discomfort written plainly across his face.“Yes,” he admitted.

“Then you know,” Bond said.

“I— No, I don’t,” Q said.“Your mind is—guarded.I couldn’t know without hurting you.”

“You’re interesting,” Bond said.

“That’s part of it,” Q said, “I’ll grant you that.But there’s something personal, isn’t there?You have a grudge against the First Order.You don’t want them to win anything more than they already have.”

“I was sent to retrieve you.”

“But you didn’t come for that purpose,” Q said.“You came so that the Force-equivalent of the Death Star doesn’t fall into enemy hands.”

Bond took in a breath and let it out.Charred leaves sat around him, the only remnants of their last meal.

“Is that how you think of yourself?” Bond asked.“A weapon?”

Q’s eyes widened, and he looked away.Before Bond could say anything else he stood.

“Days like today, I meditate by a lake not far from here,” Q said.He looked anywhere but at Bond.“For your own sake, I suggest that you not follow me.”

* * *

Following Q’s departure, the day passed slowly.  Bond considered exploring the temples, but as soon as he reached the last set of columns of the collapsed entranceway, Bond felt a chill come over his entire body.  There was nothing physically preventing him from moving forward, but Bond had a suspicion that he could not enter.  He felt a tremendous unease, as if thousands of people stared at him simultaneously, and he forced himself to turn around and walk away.

Risk of exposure to something deadly stopped Bond from exploring the nearby terrain.Without direction, he came to stand at the top of the crumbled stairs.The trees shook in a breeze that blew at intervals, tossing Bond’s clothes and caressing his skin.Q had set off for somewhere to his left, down a path that wasn’t paved but which was well-trod.Bond supposed that Q had worn down the grass daily as he walked to and from the lake.

Q.All told, Bond knew little about him, and he was fascinated.He had no doubt that it had been Q who had disabled his comms, but that bothered him less than it ought to have.It was probably better that Bond not check in until he had all of the information, anyway—or until he knew whether Q would be leaving with him or not.

 _You might need to share something about yourself to make him trust you_.M had told him that, quietly and in confidence, before he had set out.He had scoffed at the notion—he was a spy, even if he always did use his own name—but recent events had forced him to change his plans.Q could read minds; perhaps the best way to gain his trust would be to show that he didn’t need to in order to learn what he wanted.

That decided, Bond still needed to fill the time.He gathered the remnants of the day’s meal into a neat pile.He hadn’t seen Q light his fires, so he had no way of knowing what materials he used, but Bond had a lighter back in his ship for when he decided to have a smoke, and he used it to dispose of the garbage.

After that, he cleared a space and launched into a routine—push-ups, sit-ups, the usual.There was nothing the right height for pull-ups, which was a shame, but Bond managed a good enough work-out without them.

He finished, sweaty and satisfied with himself, just as the sun hit the tops of the nearest trees.He’d shed most of his clothes early on, finding them too heavy, which left him in his pants and his sweat and little else.

As Bond stood again, he felt a prickly sensation at the back of his head.Q had returned.

Bond turned slowly to face him, then smirked.Q stood just a few paces away, ears red, mouth agape.

“Hello again,” Bond said.This was familiar territory.“Good to see you’ve returned.”

“I— Yes,” Q spluttered, his entire face flushing.“Ah, perhaps I should—”

He turned away.Bond didn’t move.

“It was hot,” Bond said.“Do you mind?I’m still cooling down.”

Q took in a breath and said, “Of course, it’s fine, it’s…”Q swallowed and stared at the sky.

Bond rolled his shoulders.A flustered Q aside, working out had felt swell.

“So,” Bond said smoothly, “how was your meditation?”

“Great,” Q said.His voice cracked on that single syllable.

“Oh?” Bond asked.“Perhaps you could show me.”

Q turned to him, eyes frantic.“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said.His face was still flushed.

“It’s supposed to be good practice,” Bond said, “meditating after a session.I’ve never been able to quiet my mind.”

“That’s…”Q trailed off, staring intently at Bond’s abs.When he caught himself, he turned redder.“I’m afraid I wouldn’t be a good instructor.”

“Nonsense,” Bond chided, grinning.

Q looked at his face, did a double-take, and bunched up his shoulders.

“Oh, piss off,” he grumbled.“You’re poking fun at me.”

Bond’s smile eased a bit.“Now, Q,” he said, “why would I do that?”

“Because I look like your dead girlfriend, that’s why.”

Bond felt like he’d been slapped and doused with cold water simultaneously.Q went from red to white just as instantaneously.

“Oh, James, I…”

Bond took a step back.“I need to check something,” he said, wishing his voice didn’t sound so weak.

“I’m sorry—”

Bond turned his back on Q, snagging his clothes off of the ground as he retreated to his ship.

* * *

Night fell.  Bond’s stomach rumbled when he saw Q leave and then return with fresh game to cook, but he made no move to join him.  Bond’s pride stung, and perhaps it had something to do with being the only two humanoid species on the entirety of the planet, but Bond felt incapacitated.  The isolation was getting to him, he supposed.  He needed to leave sooner rather than later.

The thought of leaving without Q, claiming that he’d already been taken by the First Order or maybe that he’d died some time ago—it was tempting, but Bond knew he couldn’t carry it out.He’d never been able to lie to M, and he didn’t want to start now.She was—important.Bond had never wanted to examine his relationship to his superior more than that, and now was no exception.He couldn’t tarnish that.

Q put his catch of the night—some new beast Bond hadn’t yet seen—over the fire, then looked toward Bond’s ship.Bond prepared to feel the pull of the Force, governed by the will of a rather capricious master, but he felt no such thing.Instead, Q stood and began to walk slowly and with clear intent toward Bond’s ship.

Bond hesitated before he opened the cockpit.If Q really wanted him, there would be nothing that Bond could do to resist.Q could rip open the cockpit, could lift the entire _ship_ if he so desired.There could be no defense against that, at least no defense that Bond knew of.Q hadn’t resorted to that, though, so Bond was willing to see what he wanted.

Bond exited the ship, ignoring TN3R’s warning that Q seemed distraught, and came to meet him part of the way down the path.

Q did indeed seem distraught.His fingers played with the frayed sleeves of his dark robes, and his eyes seemed deeper set than usual.

His eyes were also a startlingly bright shade of yellow.

“James Bond,” he said, inclining his head.“I apologize for earlier.I would greatly appreciate it if you would join me for dinner.”

Bond looked at Q.Q looked at the ground.

“And if I refuse?” Bond asked.

“Then I shall dine alone,” he said softly, “and I will leave you to your desires.”

Bond pursed his lips, thinking.Without a word, he took a step toward Q.

“And what are we having this fine evening?” he asked.

Q’s eyes snapped up from the ground, and the gold receded altogether before coming back in full force.

“Roast _bixop_ ,” he said, “caught fresh, with toasted _edjh_ and _nael_.”

“Sounds divine,” Bond said, knowing that Q was full aware that Bond had no idea what any of those things were.Q offered his arm, and Bond took it, though the gesture caught him off-guard; it was usually the other way around.

“Allow me,” Q murmured.Bond followed his lead, and together they ascended the stairs to the ruins of the temple, and the fire.

* * *

They ate in relative silence, as Bond had learned to expect.  As night fell, the pronounced glow of Q’s eyes seemed to grow brighter.

 _Drawing strength from the darkness_ , Bond thought, though he quickly tossed the notion aside as overly poetic and far from pragmatic.

Q, for his part, seemed content to watch Bond.It wasn’t a suspicious or malicious stare, but rather one of curiosity.He didn’t understand why Bond hadn’t left yet.

When they had finished eating an admittedly divine meal, Bond said, “Earlier, you compared yourself to the Death Star.”

“Because I’m a weapon,” Q said simply, “just like everyone else who can manipulate the Force.We’re dangerous.”

“You’re not the only ones,” Bond said.“You don’t need the Force to be a weapon.”

Q stared at him and said, “You’re talking about yourself.”

Bond pursed his lips and looked at the fire.“Blunt instrument,” he said, more to himself than to Q.“I’m my blaster, most of the time.The poison, the noose, the knife—whatever it takes.The program I’m in… M doesn’t accept just anyone.But you know that, don’t you?” Bond asked.He didn’t wait for an answer as he continued, “There’s a certain type.Most of us are orphans, which doesn’t mean so much.The galaxy’s full of them.”

“What happened?” Q asked.

Bond resisted the urge to ask if Q didn’t already know from reading his mind.Instead, he said, “The First Order.They killed my family.It happened when I was a boy.My parents had supported the Galactic Empire, but when the Empire’s actions were publicized—the atrocities they had committed in the name of order and domination—my parents withdrew their support.At a time when my father’s friends clamored to get their own children into the Academy—to train them up into future First Order officers—my father shifted his support to the New Republic.”

“They killed him for it.”

“They killed everyone for it.”

Q stared at him and said, “Except you.”

“I got away.”

“And now you want to fight.Haven’t you seen enough?”

“Yes,” Bond said, his voice soft, “and no.I seek revenge.”

Q shifted in place as he said, “Revenge leads to the Dark Side.”

“The Dark Side?”

“Of the Force,” Q said, waving a hand.“The Jedi and the Sith both believed there were two sides to the Force: the Light and the Dark.”

“And you?”

Q stared intently at Bond.Those yellow eyes flared brown as he said, “I think there is only one Force.Scholars have known for centuries that the Force has a will of its own.It has exerted its influence on the galaxy for time immemorial, and it will continue to do so until the last bit of life dies.I think there is only one Force, but that it is possible to drown in it—to be overcome, consumed by it.”

“Is that your fear?” Bond asked.

“In part,” Q said.“I fear losing myself in the Force.”

“Like the Sith.”

“There were Jedi who lost themselves in much the same way,” Q said.“History simply remembered them differently.”

Bond nodded slowly.He didn’t know enough about the Jedi or the Sith to argue, nor did he truly want to fight with Q.

“I’m sorry for earlier,” Q said.“I just—”

“It’s fine,” Bond said.“You already apologized.”

“I had no right,” Q said.“It’s none of my business.”

Bond looked away.M’s advice, to bait Q with information to gain his trust, popped into his head.Bond quashed the notion.

“It’s late,” Bond said.Q looked to the dark sky dotted with stars, then back to Bond.

“That it is,” Q said softly.

“Walk me home?” Bond said, smiling teasingly.

Q smiled in return.“How could I not?” he asked, offering his arm once more.Bond took it, and together they walked down the stairs in the dark, Q leading him down the darkened path to Bond’s waiting ship.The tall grass shivered in the light wind, and the trees whispered in the night.

When Bond and Q came to a stop in front of the ship, Bond felt how close they were.He could feel Q’s breath on his cheek, could feel his grip on his hands.

“This is where I leave you,” Q said.“Rest well.”

“Rest well,” Bond repeated.They parted with a squeeze of their hands, and Bond climbed back into the cockpit.Q took a few steps backward, staring until Bond disappeared into the depths of the ship to sleep.

* * *

The next morning brought a cloudless sky and a strangely dry air.  Bond woke licking his lips and feeling light in the feet.  He dressed and approached the ruins to find Q already sitting, waiting for him.

“Good morning,” Bond said.

“Good morning,” Q replied.

Bond looked up at the clear sky.The air felt stale and dry around him, and the trees were still.Even so, Bond couldn’t shake the feeling that the world had darkened, as if everything had been shaded ever so slightly in the night.

“A storm’s coming,” Q said simply.“A bad one.”

It struck Bond that he had no idea where Q slept.

“Will you be all right?” he asked.

Q snorted.“I’ve been here for quite some time,” he said.“It’s not me you should worry about.”Almost as soon as Q said it, something passed over his face, and he added, “But nothing bad will happen to you, either.I won’t allow it.”

Bond cracked a smile.“You won’t allow it?” he teased.“Can you control the weather?”

Q frowned.“No,” he said, “I cannot, but there are many things besides that I can sense.”

“I was joking, Q,” Bond said, hoping to wipe the frown off of his face.“I meant no offense.”

Q didn’t stop frowning, but the expression lessened.

“Shall we break the fast?” Bond suggested.Q leaned into the suggestion, and they slipped back into what was fast becoming a routine.Q caught something Bond had no name for, Bond picked the plants he was told to pick, and together they ate in silence.

This time, though, it was Q who spoke first.

“What you said yesterday,” he said slowly, “about meditating.Did you mean it?”

His eyes—entirely brown this morning, Bond noted—searched Bond’s own.

“Yes,” Bond said.“It is something I’ve considered.”

“You’ve tried before?”

“Unsuccessfully,” Bond admitted.“To stop thinking doesn’t come naturally to me.It goes against my nature.”

Q nodded, his lips working for a brief moment before he asked, “Would you like to try today?”

“With you?” Bond asked.“Of course.”

Q didn’t smile with his mouth, but his eyes crinkled at the corners and sparkled in the dull light.Bond stared longer than he should, and Q looked away, ears red, to gather the remnants of their breakfast.

“This way,” Q said when he had finished, brushing his hands on his robes.He gestured toward the worn path, angling away from Bond’s ship.Q led the way through the trodden grass and Bond followed, minding the roots and pitfalls as Q pointed them out.

It looked much like the forest Bond had passed through before he had collapsed, full of identical trees and no discernible direction, but Q knew where he was going, and Bond trusted him.

Almost as soon as the thought occurred to him, unnerving and utterly true, Q led them out into a clearing that seemed brighter than the ruins had been, as if the sun had been turned up by a few candela.

“Here we are,” Q said, his voice a near whisper.

The words to adequately describe what he saw abandoned Bond as soon as he took in the place.Q had brought him to a clearing.A paved stone circle wrapped most of the way around a shining blue lake a few meters from the edge of the water.A low waterfall fed into it, and a narrow stream fed back out, toward where Bond imagined the rear of the ruins of the temples might be.The water shone as it lapped against pale sand.A pair of orange insects that looked like butterflies careened past Bond’s face, fluttering gently.Yellow flowers bloomed near where they stood, their petals bobbing gently.

Q stepped away from Bond and toward the lake.He stopped on the edge of the stone circle, looking back once at Bond.

“I know you’re comfortable,” Q said, “but it’s been—”

Bond didn’t need minds to know where Q was going.He turned away, staring at the stream as it rippled and wound its way around tree roots and rocks to disappear into the ever-present woods.

“Thank you,” Q said.“It’s been—”

Bond cut him off again.“You don’t need a reason, Q,” he said.

“Thank you,” Q said again.The butterflies returned, wheeling around each other.For a long moment, the only sound was that of the rippling of the water, and then Q said, “It’s fine now.”

Bond turned to see Q halfway to the center of the lake, up to his shoulders and paddling to keep his head up.He’d removed his glasses, and he took a breath before he went completely under.When he resurfaced, he slicked his hair back off of his face and looked at Bond.

“The water’s cold,” Q said, “but it’s good for this.”

Bond took that as permission to approach.He came to approximately where Q had stopped earlier, on the edge of that stone circle.Closer, he saw something written in it in a looping language he’d never seen.

“They’re wards,” Q said, “though they’re very old.This place was sacred to the masters who worshipped here.”

“Is there something particular I ought to do?”Bond’s question surprised even himself.Had he been anywhere else, _with_ anyone else—it might not have mattered.No, it _wouldn’t_ have mattered.

But.Bond was here, in these ruins on Litha, with Q.It was like an island outside of time and responsibility, where the war that waged across systems to span the entirety of the galaxy seemed so far away.

“No,” Q said.“It’s fine.They’ve been gone a long time.”

Bond shook his head.“It’s important to you,” he said.“It’s sacred to you.”

A chill feeling crept up Bond’s arms and legs, as if he’d stepped into the water already.In the lake, Q had stopped and looked at Bond with confusion.Bond guessed it was because he was beyond Q’s far point.

“It’s fine,” Q said.His words, spoken gently, carried across the water to reach Bond’s ears.“It’s fine.”

Bond stripped efficiently, aware that Q looked concertedly elsewhere, affording Bond the same courtesy he’d been given earlier.Bond didn’t mind so much, but he found it charming.No one had worried about his privacy for years.He’d almost forgotten that he could have it.

The water was, as Q warned, cold.Clearly not cold enough to freeze, it nevertheless sent spikes of ice through Bond’s body.It reminded him of his parent’s old home in the winter, when the cold oozed in through the windows and seemed to permeate every available object.Bond had hated that cold.

Now, though, in order to reach Q, Bond had to get through it.He braced himself and walked forward into the lake, eager to get over the initial shock.

As the water reacher higher and higher, Bond felt his breath go shallow.The cold against his stomach was the worst, followed closely by his chest, but Bond forced himself to take a breath and duck his head under.

The water seemed heavier when he went under than when he was above it.His muscles strained to keep himself from sinking, and he fought to urge to try to breathe.Panic set in, and he felt himself flailing like a rookie in basic training.He came up gasping.

“There, there, I’m here,” Q said.When had Q gotten a hold of his shoulder?Bond spluttered, trying to get air into his lungs as Q held him.“I should have warned you.”

“What was that?” Bond demanded.Cold swirled around him in eddies, but otherwise he felt nearly warm.

 _Hypothermia_ , his mind helpfully supplied.It couldn’t have set in so soon, though, could it?

“The Force,” Q said simply.“It’s strong in this place.I didn’t expect it would react to you…”

Bond said nothing.The cold disappeared entirely, and his body felt pleasantly warm.He had yet to decide if that was a good thing or not.

“Follow me,” Q said.He didn’t quite let go of Bond, but his grip lessened until they hardly touched.Bond nodded, and Q pulled away entirely.He swam toward the low waterfall and Bond followed, careful not to put his head back under again.

Q led Bond behind the wall of water to a shallow pool.Bond could see that it had been constructed some time ago: the same stones that had made up the circle around the lake had been built into the rock behind the falls, grading it and forcing an overhang.

Q came to sit on one side of the pool, the water reaching his waist.He crossed his legs and sat up straight.Bond followed suit, sitting directly across from him.Their knees nearly knocked in the narrow space, but it didn’t feel as claustrophobic as Bond had expected.

“Breathe,” Q said.“Seven in, seven out.Let the water drown out your mind.Breathe.”

Bond tried to do as he was told.It worked, or Bond thought it did, but he felt his body acutely, followed by hot and cold and sensations that brought him out of himself.He tried again, and only succeeded in failing faster.

“Here,” Q said.He scooted closer to Bond so that their legs _did_ touch and snagged Bond’s hands in his own.“Try again.”

Bond hesitated.He watched as Q closed his eyes and schooled his features to be relaxed.

 _Hello,_ Q said.

With eyes wide open, Bond saw that Q’s lips had not moved.

_Do you trust me?_

Bond closed his eyes and tried again.

Even with Q there—and Bond knew he was there, floating at the must superficial level of his mind, helping him settle in—it took a few minutes.Bond waited, willing himself not to give up, grounded by the feel of Q’s hands in his and the press of their folded legs against one another.

Slowly, sensations started to fall away.Bond still _felt_ them, but they were no longer the focus of his attention.His mental image of the alcove disappeared, and what remained was a blissful—but very much aware—blank.He slipped away from thought and merely breathed.

When Q nudged him, Bond startled, and the calm shattered.Bond’s adrenaline spiked and his pulse picked up, his eyes flying open.

Q stared at him, eyes wide open in shock.

“I’m so sorry,” Q said.“I didn’t—There, I’m here, it’s fine, it’s…”Q ran his finger across Bond’s arms.Bond grabbed both of Q’s wrists and held them rather too tightly until he remembered: the lake, the swim, meditating.How long had he been gone?The change in light from outside told him that it had been hours, at least.His toes were numb.

Bond released Q’s wrists and watched as Q rubbed the blood back into them.

“I’m sorry,” Bond said.

“No,” Q said, “I’m the one who should apologize.I didn’t know how to pull you back.It’s been years since I’ve done this with anyone else, and only ever with…”Q trailed off, swallowing.“I knew you were deep, and I pushed too hard.”

Bond willed his adrenaline levels to come back down.There was nothing to fight or flee from, just his own mind and the peculiar individual known as Q.

“You were in my mind,” Bond said.

“Yes,” Q said.“You couldn’t relax.”Bond smiled thinly, and Q quickly said, “I should have asked first.”

“You did,” Bond said.“I’m glad you were there.It felt good.”

They stared at each other for a long moment.Q swallowed, his eyes trailing down to Bond’s mouth, then to his bare torso, then back up to his face.He looked hungry.

Bond understood, then.He could end his mission so easily.Q had helped him, fed him, brought him to a sacred place and shared something important with him.On top of that, Q was lonely.He’d been alone for so long.Bond saw it in Q’s stare, in how his eyes rested so often on his lips or his shoulders.

It would only take a couple of pretty words, not even lies—Q would see them for what they were, but he would agree to come back with Bond anyway if it meant he could keep him for just a little longer.He’d have someone he could hold, who would listen and care, who would smile and wish him good morning and good night.Q would feel as though the world had finally taken pity on him, and Bond would have him eating out of the palm of his hand.

Bond took one look at Q’s open, dilated eyes.He wouldn’t.It would break Q.Bond refused.

“We should get out,” Bond said softly.“It’ll be dark soon.”

“Mm,” Q hummed.“You’re right.”

* * *

They continued like that—circling around each other, hardly touching, but looking, always looking—for about a week.  Bond wasn’t one to lose track of time, but he found it easy when his days were full of hunting game and keeping in shape and searching for the increasingly odd plants that Q sent him after.  Q feared to meditate with Bond again—whether because he worried about scaring him again, or for some other reason, Bond didn’t know—so Bond sat by the circle and committed the runes inscribed there to memory.  He followed the stream and found that it wound around the back of the trio of temples, places he still could not so much approach without the feeling in his stomach that he did not belong.

He told Q about it, and Q said,“The spirits that have taken up residence there are old and set in their ways.They live in the Force, but they do not change as it does.It would take more than my approval to grant you entrance.”

“You’ve been in there?” Bond asked, already knowing the answer.He still remembered Q talking about the old archives, about the instructions the masters had left behind.

“I have,” Q said.

“What’s in there?”

“Nothing,” Q said.“Residual sadness and despair.”

Bond frowned.“Why do you stay in its shadow, then?” Bond asked.

“Because there’s still hope buried deep.”

Bond had left it at that.He’d offered Q the spare bed of his ship the night after they meditated, but Q had declined.He had built himself a small quarters to the other side of the temple—Bond had never seen it, but he trusted that Q wasn’t sleeping in the dirt every night—and he’d grown accustomed to it.

It might have gone on like that forever, but the galaxy had other plans.

Over breakfast, Q put down his meal and stared at the sky.Bond knew that face; he’d seen it on the faces of his partners, other agents sent into the field with him.Q had heard something, and it meant nothing good.

“Stay here,” Q ordered, standing.Bond arched an eyebrow and stood as well.“Don’t,” Q warned.

“What is it?” Bond asked.

“The First Order,” Q said simply.“I need you to stay put.”

“I’m coming with you,” Bond said.

“No.”

“Q.”

“We don’t have time for this.”

Bond followed as Q made his way to the stairs.

“They’re coming for you,” Bond said.“Let me help.”

“No,” Q said, stronger this time.His eyes burned, but Bond was too headstrong to allow that to deter him now.

“I was sent here to protect you,” Bond said.

Q’s eyes widened in fury.“No,” he said bitterly, “you were sent to drag me back like an errant pet. _Stay here._ ”

“Q—”

“I know,” Q said.“I know what you are, I know what you do—I know that if I let you go out there, you’ll try to kill those officers, but you don’t even know how many there are.You don’t know this place like I do.I have every advantage, so you will _stay put_.”

Bond set his jaw and took a step back.Q backed away toward the woods.

“Please,” Q said, “don’t follow me.”

* * *

Unfortunately, following orders had never been Bond’s strong suit.

* * *

Trailing Q proved more challenging than Bond had expected.  His tracks were few and far between and looked as if he had made spectacularly long jumps rather than regular strides.  The air was hot and dry, as it had been for days, and Bond cursed himself and everything he could think of until he nearly burst out into an open clearing.  Bond had to duck back behind a tree to safely see what was happening.

Q stood, surrounded by First Order stormtroopers, at the foot of an Upsilon-class ship.A tall trooper, clad in shining chrome armor, stood just behind the ring, a deep red cape over one shoulder.

 _Captain Phasma_ , Bond thought.He remembered the briefing on her. _Wanted alive for the brainwashing and training over hundreds of thousands of innocent men and women for the Stormtrooper program._

“I’ve met no James Bond,” Q said.Bond listened carefully, mind whirring as one hand came to rest on the blaster at his side.Q addressed Phasma directly.“Please, I ask that you leave this place.”

Phasma made no immediate response.Her troopers held their weapons level, ready to fire on a moment’s notice.Bond had heard that there was a dangerous man amongst the First Order named Kylo Ren who used the Force to stop blaster bolts.Could Q do such a thing?

 _No_ , Bond thought, the realization stark and startling. _He can’t_.

“His ship was identified as landing nearby not a week ago,” Phasma said.“Try again.”

A hologram of Bond’s face appeared before Q.Q stared at it as it rotated back and forth, a perfect rendition of Bond.He needed a plan, and fast.

Q had said that he would kill any First Order scum that came after him, but in their time together, Bond had seen no weapon other than the knife Q used for carving meat.He didn’t possess a lightsaber, and unless Q was able to weaponize the Force in some tangible way, he had no mode of defense.

Bond would have to do that for him, then.

“I have been alone on this planet for years,” Q said.It was hardly a lie.“I ask that you leave.”

Phasma didn’t move.One of the troopers looked to Phasma and tensed, a finger on the trigger.

“Your insolence will cost you your life,” Phasma said.“Open fire.”

Bond flew from his hiding place at the command, startling the troopers nearest to him.He easily disarmed one and began shooting at anything white and large.

Blaster bolts filled the air.Q dropped to the ground to avoid them even as Bond took down his first trooper, quickly killing two others.

 _Open neck and joints_ , one of his first briefings had told him. _Kill only if necessary_.

Those orders only applied to standard members of the Resistance, of course.M had brought on Bond specifically to kill, and kill he would.

Bond’s vision tunneled as he took out one trooper, then another, then another.He took a bolt to his left arm—it only grazed, but it stung, and he growled as he steeled his resolve.Q was just to his right.He used the Force to steal the troopers weapons, tossing them far away as he assaulted everything that came his way with almost feral fervor.

It seemed too easy until Bond realized: Phasma had pulled most of her troopers back into the ship, which was now taking off.

 _They know_ , Bond thought coldly.They had seen him and Q both.They had positive identification.All they had to do was signal the rest of the fleet, and the First Order could firebomb Litha, capturing or killing both Bond and Q in the process.The nearest Resistance fighters were likely too far away to help, assuming M gave them the all-clear to do so.More likely, she’d let Bond and Q burn rather than lose more good fighters.

Bond killed the last living trooper and watched the First Order vessel fly away, feeling powerless and furious.

Next to him, Q cursed, and the bodies of two dead troopers flew and hit nearby trees with sickening _thunks_.

Bond turned to see Q, only to have his air supply abruptly cut off.Q stood before him, a smudge of red on his glasses, eyes burning gold.

 _Stars_ , Bond thought.His eyes were like stars.

“You should have stayed,” Q said, his voice low and furious.

“Q,” Bond said, scrambling at his own neck to relieve pressure that had no physical basis.“Q, it’s—”

“Stop,” Q seethed.“Stop, stop…”

Bond felt himself being lifted off his feet.His vision swam.Q, the only fixed point in his field of vision, vibrated with rage.

Bond saw spots before the pressure was gone and he was dropping, first to his feet, and then when they failed to hold him, down to his knees.

Across from him, Q breathed heavily, stepping backward.He tripped over a dead trooper and skittered away from the corpse, his skin pale in contrast to his dark hair.His pupils were blown with fear.

“James,” Q said.“Oh, I…”

Q took off running, and Bond didn’t have the strength to do anything other than watch.

* * *

Bond walked back to the temple ruins, using his own trail as a guide.  The woods seemed quieter, _emptier_ than they had before.  He wondered if it had to do with Q’s absence.  He wondered where Q had gone.

The sun was still high when Bond returned to the collapsed entryway.Q was nowhere amongst the pillars, and the fire that he’d built that morning had burned down to nothing.Bond’s ship sat where it had sat for the past week, quiet and looming near the trees.

Bond curved away from the ruins to walk along the path to his ship.TN3R beeped at him to warn him about the First Order ship it had picked up leaving Litha’s airspace, but Bond waved it off.

“I know,” he said softly.“I know.”

Bond sat in the cockpit in his singed clothes and leaned back against the leather headrest.The sight of Q, eyes blazing with fury, burned behind his eyelids.

TN3R sent a message to the control panel.

_The control panel?_

Bond frowned and sat forward, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.The control panel was on.Slowly, he did a systems check.Everything was online—including communications.

Something settled low in Bond’s gut.Q had re-enabled his communications apparatus.When had he done that?Bond had no proof, but something told him this was a new development.

 _He wants you gone_ , Bond thought, but no.If Q really wanted him gone, he could have…

Bond looked down at the control panel.Q could have killed him.He’d tried to, even.Something had stopped him.

 _You know what_.

Bond sighed and leaned back again.No doubt he had a backlog of messages from M and the Resistance, demanding updates, wondering if he was dead.Hoping, maybe—he’d always been something of a loose cannon to them.

Bond exited the cockpit, ignoring the worried calls of TN3R, and walked back to the ruins.Still no sign of Q.After a moment’s debate with himself, he walked down to the well-worn path through the trees down to the lake, hoping to find Q furiously trying to meditate his way through his anger.

Nothing.There was nothing.

Bond stood on the edge of the stone circle and went no farther.The place felt duller, almost ordinary, without Q standing beside him.

(Bond wasn’t willing to consider that for a moment longer than he had to.)

Bond sighed.If Q didn’t want to be found, there was nothing Bond could do to track him down.He covered his tracks well, and nothing in Bond’s training covered how to corner someone who had the Force on their side.He turned away from the lake and prepared to return to his ship.

A splash in the water behind him had him spinning, eyes scanning for movement.The water rippled as if something had been dropped, but Bond saw nothing.He tensed, waiting for an ambush, but none came.

The water convulsed on its own right before Bond’s eyes, and he took a step back.

He felt—he felt _fear_.That wasn’t it, though: there was pain and sadness and regret and anger and—

Bond walked toward the water’s edge.He passed the circle—had he been paying attention, he might have noticed how it felt hot even through his shoes, but his attention was solely fixed on the water—and came to stand on the edge of the sand.

A wave rose up to meet him, and he was swept into the lake.

Black water filled his eyes, nose, mouth, lungs.He couldn’t breathe, and something was pulling him down, tugging at his arms and legs.The surface, the waving outline of the sun, receded, and Bond was sinking, fighting all the way.Bubbles of oxygen floated up from his face, and he reached for them in vain.

Visions filled his head: dead stormtroopers, dead Bond, a blade of glowing red light, the end of the world.

Q, huddling by an altar, considering killing himself.

Bond rose up, the water in his ears pressing in uncomfortably, and then he was above the surface, in the air, and hurtling toward dry land.He skidded briefly across the sand and up into the grass, his cheek taking the brunt of the hit and burning with the impact.

Behind him, the water roiled, then rolled, then went still.Even as Bond coughed up the water that had settled in his lungs—less than there had any right to be—he knew what he had to do.

Bond hauled himself up, wringing out his soaking clothes as best he could, and ran back to the temple.His sense of urgency was not entirely his own; he felt something at the back of his mind, urging him on.

 _Hurry_ , it said wordlessly. _Hurry_.

Bond took the crumbling stairs three at a time.He passed the embers of the fire and approached the temple proper.

This time, Bond felt not fear but apprehension.The spirits, or whatever guarded these ruins, had to let him through this time.There was no other way.He slowed his pace a little but his way was not obstructed as it had been in the past.Without another moment’s hesitation, he pressed on.

The interior, where the three temples intersected, was an enormous cavernous space.Sunlight drifted in from a hole in the ceiling, and Bond could see three arches, one leading to each temple.Something led Bond to the left, and he followed the instinct.

What followed was a nearly maze-like structure, all faded stone carvings and figurines whose faces had worn down to nothing.The path branched in several places, but Bond felt himself guided along a single route.Anytime he tried to deviate, he felt the same as when he’d tried to approach the temples earlier, before all of this had happened.It was as if the Force had cordoned off a road specifically for Bond to follow.He could only hope it would lead to Q, wherever he was.

Bond followed a narrow set of stairs down for what felt like an interminable distance, the passage narrowing every so often.It curved abruptly to the left, then came back up and forked over to the right.Bond would have thought he was going in circles had he not stumbled into a gate that looked to be made of gold, shining in the light that was just behind it.

Bond could see a shrine, with flowers inlaid in colored stones in the floor and gently curving pillars holding up a series of stone beams that bent and spun together to meet in the middle, like a bird cage.At the far end sat an altar, and just under that altar sat Q.

The gate refused to so much as budge.

“Leave,” Q croaked.He refused to turn around.“This place is not for you.”

“Q,” Bond said.He wrapped his hands around the bars of the gate and pushed with all he had.It cut into his hands, but he kept at it, his shoulders straining with the effort.His left arm, still aching from the beating it had taken earlier, gave out first, and he collapsed against it.

“Why haven’t you left?” Q asked.“Leave, get out, get out…”

“I’m not leaving without you.”

Q spun to face him at long last, and Bond’s heart sunk.Q’s eyes were gold, but there was more than that—his irises were rimmed with a burning red.

“Because I’m your mission?” Q spit.“Because I look like your dead lover?Don’t act like you care.”

Bond slumped against the gates.“You do look like her,” he said softly.

Inside, Q sat still and stared at Bond.“You loved her,” Q said.

“Yes, I loved Vesper,” Bond said.He looked at Q, though it was so difficult to.It was hard to believe that this was the same Q he’d—

“She died,” Bond said, as if he needed any.“She spied on the Resistance for the First Order, but when I met her… She and I worked together.We had plans to leave it all behind.We would turn our backs on the Resistance, make our way to the far reaches of the galaxy where no one would bother us.I didn’t know she was a spy then, but it wasn’t long.She tried to cut ties with the First Order.They shot the engines off her plane on her last run.I couldn’t save her.”

The image came to the front of Bond’s mind unbidden: Vesper, eyes closed, lips blue with hypoxia, floating amongst the wreckage of her ship.Her hair had bobbed around her face like seaweed in the ocean.She had been beautiful, even then.Bond had nearly thrown himself out of airlock to join her.

“I’m not Vepser,” Q said.“I can’t be.I can’t resurrect her.”

“I know,” Bond said.“I’m not asking you to.”

“Saving me is a waste of time.She’s gone.”

Bond shook his head and said, “If this had been about Vesper, you would have fallen into my bed a long time ago.”

Q’s face flushed, though it wasn’t nearly so endearing coupled with those violent eyes.

“I was sent here to retrieve you,” Bond said.

“I told you,” Q said, “you would leave empty-handed.”

Bond hesitated before he said, “Perhaps I won’t leave at all.”

“You have to.I won’t allow you to stay.”Bond watched as a slew of emotions crossed Q’s face in quick succession.For all that his words were calm, the rest of him could hardly remain still.“You cannot remain here.”

“And you can?”

“The First Order knows you’re here,” Q said.“They’ll return with greater numbers to kill you.”

“You think they’ll spare you?Or are you thinking of joining them, after all of this?”

Q growled, and something rippled around him—the Force, Bond guessed.“Do you think so little of me?”

“I’m afraid they’ll kill you.”

“Why does my survival mean so much to you?”

Bond shied away from any easy answer to say, “You’re important to me, Q.”

“Of course I am,” Q said flippantly.“I’m your mission.”

Bond shook his head.“No, you are important to _me_.I don’t mean for the galaxy, or the Resistance, of anyone else.I mean that you matter,” he said, “here.”He set a hand over his own heart and felt his pulse through his wet shirt.It was fast but persistent and strong.Q’s eyes followed his fingers.

“You don’t mean that,” Q said.

“I believe I do,” Bond said.“Call me a liar if you wish.It doesn’t change anything.”

Q took a step backward.Bond saw that his hands were shaking.

“As soon as you leave here, you’ll forget me,” Q said.“You’ll see other people, and you’ll remember what it’s like to be around truly wonderful people—people who deserve your, your…” Q swallowed.“I don’t.”

“Don’t I get to be the judge of that?” Bond asked.“I should be more worried about you leaving me behind.”

Q growled.“I wouldn’t,” he said quickly.He ran his tongue over his lips, still shaking.He swallowed, then said, “I tried— I almost…”

“Q,” Bond said, “let me in.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

Q turned away, his shoulders slumping.

“I can’t be her,” Q said.

“I’m not asking you to be,” Bond said.“I don’t want you to be.I want you to be yourself, just as you are.”

“I’m no good for you.I almost killed you.”

“You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in years, though I hardly deserve it.”

“You deserve everything.You’ve been nothing but kind.”

Bond leaned against the gate and breathed deeply.

“When Vesper died,” he said, “I wanted revenge.I threw myself out there, looking for anyone who wore anything like the First Order insignia.I thought that if I killed enough, if I destroyed enough, I could feel peace again.”He smiled and shut his eyes.“All the while, though, I knew— I was as much responsible for her death as they were.”

“James—”

“I knew that I would have to die, too,” Bond said.“I decided that a long time ago.”He took in a breath and let it out.“Then you took me to the lake.”

Inside the gate, Q was very quiet.Bond could see him, hunched over and facing away, but listening.

“I felt true peace,” he said.“You showed me what could be.”

“I manipulated you,” Q said.“I lied.”

“You could have,” Bond said, “but you didn’t.You’ve had every opportunity to turn me right around, to send me on my way—to make me do anything you wanted me to do.But you haven’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do,” Bond said, certain.“I do.”

The gate slipped on the stone floor, then fell entirely open.Bond came to his feet and stood at the threshold.

“May I?” he asked.

Q nodded, shaking, and Bond crossed the few steps between them.Q turned and pressed his face against Bond’s shoulders, glasses riding up on his face as he wrapped his arms around him.

“I’m sorry,” Q said.“I’m sorry.”

Bond breathed in Q’s hair and kissed the top of his head, wrapping him in his arms.

“It’s all right,” Bond said.“It’s all right.”

Q pulled back to look Bond in the eyes.

“Promise me,” Q said, his voice shaky.He didn’t elaborate, but Bond didn’t need him to.He felt a range of things from Q—hope and desire and the fear of abandonment and a need, a tremendous need, for someone else—for Bond.

“I promise,” Bond said.

“So do I,” Q replied.Bond pulled him in closer then, and didn’t let go for a very long time.


End file.
